


keep you safe

by sleep_pronoia (nap_princess)



Series: Warm Bodies [1]
Category: Warm Bodies (2013)
Genre: Angst, Bad Ending, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 05:16:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15089795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nap_princess/pseuds/sleep_pronoia
Summary: "Julie Cabernet!" I finally manage to yell. Julie gives me a smile – the same one that mirrors the photograph that she took years ago. It was as if I was living the moment all over again in that creepy house with size-L jeans and a belated birthday gift. Again, she is leaving me. And, again, I wasn't sure if I could ever see her breathing and alive– RJulie if you squint, R-centric





	keep you safe

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Summertime Sadness](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/392609) by Lana Del Rey. 



**keep you safe**

* * *

Kiss me hard before you go,  
Summertime sadness,  
I just wanted you to know that baby, you the best

–  **Lana Del Rey** ,  _Summertime Sadness_

* * *

"R," Julie Grigio's voice is rasped from dehydration. With her bird-bone shoulders and depleting strength, she tries to drag me along. It is no good, I am nothing but dead-weight to her. "You have to walk."

I groan, unable to say a proper word – the action reminds me to my days as a Corpse. Unable to utter a word without stuttering or pausing, much less string a sentence together.

"R," She repeats, it sounds laboured.

I feel guilty for putting her through this but it seems all my strength has left me, I am nothing but a rag doll being thrown around.

"Just a little further," Julie tells me and she tries to drag along.

If we weren't put in such a scenario, it would have actually been quite comical – a small, young woman with wild sunshine hair helping a six foot something man stubble down the corridor. If this was a party, I could (no, would) have been mistaken as some certified drunken person, filled with shots of vodka and next morning hangover regret.

"R, please." Julie begs and I try my hardest to will my legs to cooperate. It's hard. Damn fucking  _hard_. She is so strong. She doesn't get enough credit for it.

Julie looks over her shoulder quickly then flashes me a short plead, our eyes mirror each other. Golden; bursting with hope of a new world. Or, at least, what we thought was a new world. Boneys. We figured they had all died out. We were wrong. Some of them had managed to crawl their way up from the pits of hell. Waiting and lurking for unfortunate prey to walk into their hunting grounds and devour.

I choke out an apologetic gurgle, I look at her with complete and utter defeat.

Julie shushes me and back tracks on her earlier words. "Save your strength," she says though I know what she really wants to say. More than anything, she wants to tell me to pull myself together and face this chaos.

Her skin is covered in cuts and bruises. She is caked with dirt and dried blood. Wild hair, ripped shirt, missing boot. She looks like a mess, she looks like she's stared at death itself. But who am I to judge? I probably look worse. I am surprised, I can barely differentiate ourselves from the Boneys.

I open my mouth again but she cuts me off with a warning. "We won't be able to outrun them for long."

She's right. Mercey has died and run out of gas. Julie has been dragging me away from danger for hours. Her five foot frame won't be able to support me much longer, especially since I am obviously much taller and heavier than her. She's a tough one, I know, but how much more can she bear?

I can't take another step. My legs ache and the backpack slung on my back feels like it is dragging me down. I feel like collapsing right here, right now but I can't throw everything Julie has done for me out the window.

We're safe for now. How safe, I am not sure. The Boneys can't be far behind.

We reach the bedroom door at the end of the corridor. It is filled with faded stickers of  _DO NOT ENTER_  signs in bold black words and skulls. Cut out pictures of guitars and drums dominate the little space that in unoccupied. The owner of the room has his or her name imprinted on a car license plate hung on the oak door but it's broken and the only thing I could make out is that the name started with an 'L'.

Julie doesn't even hesitate to open the door and precedes to drags me once we enter. A single-bed laid at the corner on the left. A study desk, a large bookshelf, two beanbag chairs and TV decorated the room. There also seemed to be tiny bathroom connected to it.

She dumps me on the bed as soon as we reach it and I slump on the comfy mattress with little effort to support myself while she sinks beside me with a loud sigh of exhaustion.

I groan and point to the open bedroom door as if to say: Lock it.

She sighs again and swats me in the face. I moan in annoyance at her lame attempt to hit me but she gets up no less to lock the door. Despite everything, she still has a sense of humour.

My eyelids feel heavy and I almost doze off but the force of her slamming her body on top of mine jolts me awake, she just socked me in the gut with her backpack.

"Door's lock," she says casually and I respond by rolling my eyes. Her back is spawned on my stomach, together; we form a 'X'.

I grunt, telling her to get off.

Of course, Julie responses with a "No," but she does after a while and curls up on my side. The bed is small but we are too tired to care and soon black out.

I don't know how long I slept but I swear it felt like a handful of minutes. I awoke to the sound of familiar horn-like blasts and snapping jaws.

The surrounding looked blurred but I'm able to make out Julie's figure hunched on the ground under a study lamp. It looked like she had cleaned herself up while I was asleep. She now wore a black sleeveless shirt that looked like it belonged to a boy and her old jeans, now cut just above her knee-caps.

Julie is clearly was more alert than me. I can sleep like I'm in a coma when I want to.

I see her surrounded by a pile of canned food and oddities. She must have searched the house while I was asleep. She unzips her backpack and dumps everything on the ground. The sound of canned food and medicine bottles bouncing on the ground is enough to make me stay awake. Curiosity fills me.

Similarly, Julie dumps the contents of my backpack before sorting out our things. She then starts arranging food and supplies into my backpack along with clothes that she savaged from the room that looked about two sizes too big for her.

"What –"

I am silenced. She whispers sharply, putting a finger up to her lips. She then points out the window. "They're close."

I manage to get in a sitting position although every muscle in my body was telling me to stay still and sleep. I look out the window to my left and see the front of the house crawling with Boneys. Something in me seems to fall deeper into the void I didn't know I was in. We're surrounded.

I have no idea what time it was but the sky showed sunlight spilling into the room.

I try to get up, I don't want – refuse – to look at the Boneys. We are outmanned and outgunned. Is this how it ends?

I slip my legs of the edge of the bed but the moment my feet touched the ground, I feel myself buckle under the weight. It's too much. This is too much. Julie is too far to catch me so I fall face first onto the floor. I let out a sharp cry and she gasps at my clumsiness.

"You idiot!" Julie snaps as she quickly cradles my injured head and tucks it on her lap. "The last thing I need is you getting a head concussion! You nimrod. You numskull. You – You –"

She doesn't finish her list of insults when she sees my watery eyes and hears my rag sobs.

I am the living definition of depression itself as all the negative thoughts come and drown me. This was a failed mission from the start, I should have known. We've lost so many people. Our resources are thinning. We can't make it. We'll  _never_  make it.

I have lost the spark I once wield when I was a Corpse. I bleed and I feel. I am numb and weak. I am human. I can't help but feel pathetic.

"Hey," Julie's voice comes out, soothing and soft. "Hey, stop it." She begins running her delicate fingers through my hair, rubbing old scars and faded bumps. "R, I'm sorry,"

I shake my head to tell her it's not her fault but it probably came out as a mixed signal of mood swings and pathetic toddler tantrums.

"Here," she tells me and pushes me up.

I blink at her through wet lashes as she helps adjusts me. My back is now against the bed and my knees tucked against my chest.

"It's okay," Julie cooed. I can't stand to look at her. Everything about her looks so tired and lifeless. The dark bruises mooning around her eyes and the creases on her forehead. The fat around her cheeks has sunken and her chapel lips tell me she's starved and dehydrated.

"Julie," I say, her name rolls off my tongue like honey as it did when I first uttered it.

"It's okay," she repeats at me and cups the side of my face with both of her small hands so I can look at her in the eye. "It's alright,"

I feel so helpless. Everything's not okay. How can she say that? I am nothing but a burden. I'm dragging her down.

She gives me a half-hearted smile. The morning sun had spilled through one of the windows occupying the room. It drenches her in pure sunlight, her eyes seem to melt into golden rays, and for a moment, I almost believed everything was going to be alright.

Almost.

But it flickers just as quickly. I shake my head again as my mouth forms to say things that are on my mind. I drop the thought before even trying. I am just too afraid to say it. I  _can't_  keep her safe.

Julie responses by lifting the chain she always wears around her neck and loops it around my neck.

Confusion fills my mind and I can't seem to process what's happening. It was once Nora's. Something our Miss Green stole just like the infamous paintings while we looked for those turning human. After Nora passed it onto Julie, she never took it off.  _Never_. Even on days where I joked and said the damn necklace would get snagged and choke her to death. I always tell Julie the necklace is trouble but she insists its good luck.

Blessed she says. By whom? The gaping mouth in the sky? I usually scoff at her silly belief, especially on days when our supplies are low and food is scarce, and more and more of our friends are joining and staying dead.

 _What are you doing?_  I wanted to say but all I manage is a weak puzzled groan. My voice is barely audible. It doesn't even sound like me. It's so dry and hoarse. Water. I need water. I'm so thirsty.

"Stay alive." Julie tells me even though it sounds more like a command.

"What?" I try to swallow the lump in my throat. It clamps with effort to speak. I have to will myself to speak.

She doesn't answer my question and pulls out her old music player. She stuffs the earbuds into my ears and then proceeds to be fixated with the list of songs to choose from.

"The battery will die soon but it'll keep you occupied until it's over." Julie informs me.

I stare at her wordless. I don't get to say a word before music fills my eardrums. The volume is too loud for my liking.

I try to push myself up but she stops me with a firm hand on my shoulder. She gives me a look that means business, it says:  _Stay down, R, stay down._

Her eyes wonder away from mine and she stares out the window for a split second. Julie seems lost in her own world before her head snaps back to me like she's been caught doing something she shouldn't be. Then she kisses me hard and I freeze. I'm too stunned to do anything and I can feel her hands working. It doesn't come to my attention that she's zip-tied my dominant hand to one of the legs of the bed. I am trapped. This is false imprisonment.

When she pulls away, I watch her mouth move. She's saying something but I can't hear it. The music fills my brain.

My expression must have told her I was unable to hear a word she said because she gives me a sad smile and gets up. Julie points at herself, then points at my backpack laying on the floor then at me. She dusts her awkward length jeans and walks towards the door.

 _Wait!_  My thoughts scream at her, _Wait! Where are you going?_

She turns around just as she touches the doorknob. I scramble to get up, putting my palm on the ground to help push myself up but my legs feel like jelly and my hand is weak. I slip. She doesn't even turn around to look at me fall.

"Ju –"

_Stop!_

She doesn't say a word and waves at me. I manage to awkwardly get into a position where I'm lying on my stomach. At this point, I use all the remaining strength I have, drag the bed with me as I start crawling my way towards her. The bed creaks and screeches. I am barely making progress.

"Julie," I call out to her while my head yells the question again and again.  _What are you doing?_

I want her to stop.  _Stop!_ Just  **stop**!

She turns the doorknob to leave and dread fills me. I grab a fistful of lint and carpet in desperate attempt to close the gap that distanced us.

"Julie Cabernet!" I finally manage to yell. I am pleading. Begging. This cannot be happening.

She gives me a smile – the same one that mirrors the photograph that she took years ago. It was as if I was living the moment all over again in that creepy house with size-L jeans and a belated birthday gift. Again, she is leaving me. And, again, I wasn't sure if I could ever see her breathing and alive.

Her mouth moves. It seems like she's repeating her earlier words. It's a final goodbye. One last memory of her.

Golden eyes flash me one more look before Julie locks the door from the inside then she closes it behind her. She's locking herself out from the small room. She's using herself as bait. She's distracting the Boneys.

I rip the earbuds off and scream, "Julie!"

I have never felt so defeated in my life. After all these hellish struggles we've faced together, she's just going to leave me. I pull my arm hard, I don't care if I have to resort to biting it off.

I'm so close to losing my mind when I spot the backpack Julie has left for me. I snap into action, using my foot to pull it closer to me. I practically rip it open as every impossible thought runs through my mind. I desperately fling the contents of the items out of the backpack – clothes, canned food, water. It isn't until I pull out a butter knife from the side of the backpack is when I feel somewhat hopeful.

The pain in my chest tells me my heart is breaking and I feel more dead then I've ever felt but I'm still here, laying on the floor, sawing this damn zip lock in half with the dullest knife I've ever come across.

I wish I could say I didn't understand why she did it. I wish I could tell myself, somehow convince the lie that my heart wishes to believe but I can't. I know what she said to me, I know Julie means well.

The music is still playing, the beat is so loud, I mistaken it for my heartbeat but the only thing that rings in my head are her words:  _R, I'm going to keep you safe._

* * *

**end**

**Author's Note:**

> Isaac Marion has mentioned several times on his blog to "Stay alive," so I've input in his quote. Warm Bodies is, without a doubt, my favourite book ever since 2013.I wrote this a few years ago but never got around to publishing it but here it is. Sorry not sorry, I'm a sucker for heart-breaking scenes. This was written and edited a month before 'The Burning World' was released so there's some inaccurate descriptions like Julie's golden eyes.
> 
> – 4 January 2017


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